


First Love

by rhilicious



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, First Love, Organized Crime Mention, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25164766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhilicious/pseuds/rhilicious
Summary: “A first love is an explosion that will leave you breathless. It catches you off guard, and it blows up in your face; it makes your heart race, and it leaves you feeling empty when it’s over. It’s spontaneous and it’s pure; it’s simple, but your feelings are left unsorted for the rest of your days. You’ll stay up at night, wondering if you’ll ever feel that explosion again, only to be disappointed when it never comes. A first love comes swiftly, and it comes sweetly. It sweeps you off your feet, and then it leaves you in the middle of the ocean, not having the gall to teach you how to swim.”Sakyo dreams of how soft Izumi’s hand is, and is abhorred at the idea of it perfectly fitting into his hand stained with blood.
Relationships: Furuichi Sakyou/Tachibana Izumi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 61





	First Love

The sunlight that leaked into Room 106 resembled golden glitter, warming the area its rays touched. It touched the glass table resting near an open window, it warmed the wooden floorboard, and it gently brushed against the cheek of the man who owned the room; his focus, elsewhere. Sakyo Furuichi folded the corner of the manga he was reading, a brief sigh escaping his lips. As soon as he was content with the tiny fold, he continued reading, allowing himself to immerse in the story that was slowly unraveling.

That day, he read of first loves and confessions; of heartaches, and the dilemmas of youth. The genre was not his first choice, but he was dedicated to learning everything he could from every listing he had access to. He dared not to read quickly, choosing to appreciate the hard work put into the book, observing how artists drew their characters and how their facial expressions changed with every interaction. 

Sakyo thought he could pick up something related to his acting until he flipped the page, his eyes meeting a scene where the main character grabbed the hand of the person she was in love with. He felt his lips twitch into a smile. The racing of the heart, the deafening of ears; he knew the feeling far too well.

He doesn’t remember the exact day he first felt his heart melt into itself, but what he does remember is that it was caused by a mischievous little girl a few years younger than him. 

Once upon a time, a little girl with the energy of a thousand suns led him into a world that only existed in his dreams. Instead of seeing the perfect performances one would have expected to see, Sakyo saw mistakes and heard apologies; watching stories as they were being made. He visited the magical place and he watched their magicians everyday, spending time with someone he never expected his heart to beat for, starting to dream the same dream the residents of the building did.

In the midst of the magic was the little girl who reached out and grabbed his hand, leading him into a place where dreams came true. 

Her crooked smile was forever engraved in his mind. When she left, Sakyo lived his everydays, visualizing a smile he might never see again. He saw her smile when he continued watching the plays of the Mankai Company, and he saw her smile when he saw children playing with each other in a nearby playground. He continued seeing her smile as he grew up. He saw her smile when he took up odd jobs for people who covered their faces, and he saw her smile when he was caught in territorial disputes of people who could have abandoned him at any time. He didn’t just disappoint his mother with the life he chose. He disappointed that little girl too. 

Sakyo was sure that if that girl had seen him again, she wouldn’t want to be involved with him anymore. She was his first love, and he wanted her memory of him to stay as pure as the love he felt for her on those hot, summer afternoons.

A first love is an explosion that will leave you breathless. It catches you off guard, and it blows up in your face; it makes your heart race, and it leaves you feeling empty when it’s over. It’s spontaneous and it’s pure; it’s simple, but your feelings are left unsorted for the rest of your days. You’ll stay up at night, wondering if you’ll ever feel that explosion again, only to be disappointed when it never comes. A first love comes swiftly, and it comes sweetly. It sweeps you off your feet, and then it leaves you in the middle of the ocean, not having the gall to teach you how to swim.

Sakyo’s first love played out a little differently. 

His first love crept up to him, the unsuspecting prey. It was swift, yet it took its time. Instead of an explosion, it was a shadow that slowly engulfed him. Being unaware of time, Sakyo only realized that it was late when the sun had completely set, the darkness covering his surroundings like a thick blanket. He only realized that he loved her when it was too late. The sweet girl who wore the sweetest smile had said her goodbyes, and it was the empty spot in his heart that notified him that something was missing.

Sakyo’s first love might not have blown up in his face, nor did it occur to him with a bang; his first love was silent like the first summer night after a festival ended, nonetheless, it was as true as a child that had yet to discover how to lie. Despite everything, he too, was swept off his feet to be left in the middle of an ocean, sinking into a mystery he would never be able to break the surface of. 

Little did he know, when once upon a time ended, that little girl grew up to be someone who revived the place where dreams came true. 

Often, when she was excited, that woman would grab his hand to lead him somewhere; and in more times than one, Sakyo begged her in his mind to let go. Sometimes he would initiate the action by refusing to move, and in other instances, he would carefully remove her hand from his person, telling her off for being hasty. He always expected her to hate him a little more every time, but the smile she wore on her face never faltered. Sometimes a smile, sometimes her lips formed into a pout. She was still that brat he fell in love with all those years ago. 

Whenever she impulsively held his hand, Sakyo couldn't help but wonder if she knew what she was doing to him. Like how the plot of a romance manga played out, Sakyo felt like he had traded his glasses for rose-colored lenses. Everything seemed happier, a little livelier. The flowers in the garden looked too beautiful to be real, and the old dormitory felt new. He felt like he had discovered what love was for the first time all over again, and when the woman turned around to look back at him, Sakyo held his breath. 

Sakyo held his breath, and when the angel holding his hand turned her head back, he wished that he could replay the way she looked at him, over and over again. 

The dainty hand that fit perfectly in his was always warm, softer than anything else his filthy hands had touched. From packages he never learned the contents of, to items that Sakyo prayed would be erased from his memories; his hands have been stained far too long ago. When Sakyo was released from her grip, he never failed to feel his heart twist. 

He strongly believed that the hands that have once taken a life should never stain the hands of someone so innocent, so delicate. 

Only in romantic media could he live his simple dream of being able to hold her hand back. In every manga, in every novel; the female character who burst into the male lead’s life like a firework in the night, her name was always Izumi Tachibana. 

Her name was Izumi Tachibana, and she was beautiful. 

She was beautiful when she fell asleep on her desk, and when she cooked curry for the third time that week. She was beautiful when she wore a serious expression on her face during practice, and when she took responsibility for a mistake on her behalf. She was beautiful when she sat down next to him, watching a movie that they chose together; and she was beautiful when she smiled with her eyes, a tender gaze that had nothing to hide. 

She had silly moments where she acted like the free spirited kid that made his days vibrant, and she had her serious moments where he could trust her to help him bloom into the actor he had always dreamed of becoming. When Sakyo delivered his lines by himself, he placed his entire heart into it. And when Izumi guided him to become better, he felt something more than his heart was included in his acting. 

She was far too beautiful for someone like him, and so he attempted to resign himself to his fate; choosing the role of someone who would protect her from the shadows, never letting her out of his sight, keeping a far enough distance so that she may never be able to hold his hand. The hand of Sakyo Furuichi; the hand of a sinner, the hand of a man who belonged in the dark. 

He thought he had come to terms with his destiny, only to wonder how soft her hand would be if he held it back. He wondered if her lips were as plump as they looked, and he wondered what kind of shampoo she used for her sweet smelling hair. He wondered if she would step all over his feet if ever they were to dance together, and he wondered how she would look walking down the aisle.

He wondered every time he picked up a romance novel, imagining a life with the person who ignited the dwindling flame he tried so hard to keep alive; the fires now burning as if it was lit for the first time. 

Even if she left him in the middle of an ocean, Sakyo floated to the surface, awaiting the return of someone who might have never came back. He placed his hands together, wanting to hold her hand like the way lovers did; squeezing it when overwhelmed with emotion, stroking it with his thumb when he felt affectionate. He allowed himself to dream, until he was reminded of the stain he would carry for the rest of his life. 

He never gave up his dream of becoming a professional on stage, but just this once, he might have to give up on a dream that he had only realized recently, feeling disgusted at the idea of tainting someone so pure. 

As the last glow of gold left the room, Sakyo closed the manga he was lost in. He stood up from the floor, and opened the main light of his room, taking in the final hours of the day. Soon, he would be called to dinner, and then he would ask Matsukawa for the papers he asked him to fill up. Soon, he would have to contact Sakoda regarding the situation in an area he oversaw, determining if he needed to take action into his own hands; and soon, he planned to—

Someone knocked on his door. A voice came from the other side. 

“Sakyo, may I come in?” 

Izumi’s voice was gentle; it was the tone she used with the younger troupe members. Sakyo didn’t know why she used that voice with him, muttering a hushed “come in” while fixing his glasses.

A gap in between the door and the wall grew, and when it was big enough, a sweet Izumi Tachibana peeked from the crevice. She wore a weary smile on her face, taking a deep breath before speaking. 

“Dinner’s ready.” 

She glowed prettier than the setting sun, her grin shining brighter than any of the stars he wished on as a child. Her brown hair framed her face perfectly, and the way her eyes smiled captivated Sakyo in a way he thought wasn’t possible anymore. Sometimes, Sakyo wondered if she was real; if someone so perfect could exist in a world like theirs. Seeing her like this, a sight meant only for him to see, it felt like he was falling in love all over again. 

Sakyo looked at her in disapproval, leading her to ask if there was something wrong. 

He sighed before he gave his answer, looking away before he spoke. 

“Don’t push yourself too hard, damnit.”

Izumi’s smile faded in an instant, her face showing surprise instead. Sakyo missed her change of expression, which might have been for the best. An afternoon of thinking about the love of his life gave him more feelings than he wanted, and he might have refused to eat with the others if the butterflies that thrived in his stomach were enticed any further. 

When he met her eyes again, she looked a little less tired, a little happier than when she first knocked on the door to his room. She whispered a quiet “I will” before disappearing behind his door, leaving Sakyo to his own devices.

There he was, ready to build a wall around himself, ready to keep distance in between him and his dear director; only for her to unknowingly destroy all his defenses, leaving him with the realization that sometimes you can never truly stop loving someone. And even if you try, they will always return to you one way or another. They will return at the most unexpected of times, and that will be when you discover what real fireworks look like. 

Real fireworks looked like a set of spices ready for curry making at any time. 

Real fireworks sounded like a muffled laugh, trying to keep quiet at serious times. 

And real fireworks felt like the somersault of your stomach, whenever the object of your affections smiled in your direction. 

Washing his hands would never remove the blemishes, but accepting them as a part of himself might be a wiser decision. He wondered if Izumi would accept him for his mistakes and for what he truly was, thinking that he should bring up the topic if ever he wanted to have her in his life permanently. He wasn't going to let her disappear on him again. Not for as long as he lived.   
  
The romance novels Sakyo read questioned what love truly was in its purest form. It questioned if your first love was real if you've never experienced love before it, and it questioned if your fleeting moment with a stranger would affect you until your deathbed. It questioned if you were too old for love, and if you were diving head first into a trap of infatuation. 

However, when Sakyo’s eyes met Izumi’s, he knew what love was.

Love came in the form of a woman named Izumi Tachibana, and Sakyo will forever be grateful that she was his first and last love. 


End file.
